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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28286436">The Song of the Elder Woods</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/pseuds/enkelimagnus'>enkelimagnus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ciri has good dads, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Elder Woods, Fluff, Husbands, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, VERY LOOSE WORLDBUILDING, all the gang is here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:28:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28286436</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/pseuds/enkelimagnus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt visits the Elder Woods... and he's in for a surprise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Song of the Elder Woods</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDream/gifts">IndigoDream</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Feat. my very LIMITED knowledge of the Witcher canon and lore.</p><p>I love you and I hope you have a very nice Christmas, my darling.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The woods of the fae are a glorious labyrinth of myth and beauty, of mist and danger. Eyes watch you from every corner but they can never be seen by a mortal’s. Walking through the winding breathless paths of the woods mean knowing you are watched, but can never know the guardians that consider you alien.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt should be used to those paths and those feelings. And yet…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time he hears the Song, he’s startled, as fearful and aweful as the very first time he’s heard it, strumming of lute and notes of voice, weaving in between millenia old and second old trees all the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes something vibrate inside of him, a cord struck by deft fingers of great musical talent. He’s a slave to that song, he’s been since the very first day and he knows it. He loves it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the song resounds, the path in front of him opens and clears, sun shines through gaps in the leaves and threads gold onto it, beckoning him further in. He always hesitates. He always gives in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now the song becomes a dance, both well-practiced and awkward. Geralt’s feet are not meant for dancing, he’s been trained way too harshly for it. With every step, he’s brought closer to the most graceful being of this side of the universe. With every step, he falls a little more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a ruffle of leaves by his side, on his right and he turns to face it. She stands there with a smile, pale hair longer than the last time he saw her, but shorter than the first time they met. Ash has never looked more beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He used to come only for him and the Song. But now he comes for Ciri too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s grown and trained and decided that she wanted to spend some of her time in the woods of the fae, growing her innate magic and her learned herbalism. Her energy has completely shifted from the first time they met. Geralt doesn’t really know if he’s proud. He misses her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He guesses that’s just one more reason to come and visit them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, dad,” she smiles, coming to join him on the path, a little more fey and a little less girl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Calanthe could see her, her heir now one with the Elder Woods, Cirilla, Zierael, the Swallow. Three names and so many powers and faces and aspects of the one girl she took and trained for a throne she never intended to give up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Paveta could see her, her daughter, her baby, touched by the Elder Magic and becoming more and more a part of her lineage than no one in the blood of Cintra has ever been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ciri hugs him and Geralt hugs her back. They keep walking down the path, until it opens suddenly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clearing is like a gulp of air after the apnea of closed paths and woods wrapped around him like a tunnel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting on a throne of thorns and growth in the middle of the clearing, hair aflame and eyes fixed on Geralt as if he’s been watching since Geralt set foot in the Elder Woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling,” Jaskier grins and puts down his lute. The Song stops but Geralt’s heart still beats, which is pretty rare in Jaskier’s presence. He’s fey, the tricky kind, and strums often bring heartbeats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt steps further. “I should have come back sooner,” he shrugs an apology. Time passes differently in the Elder Woods and it’s incredibly hard to manage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier huffs and stands from his throne, gently brushing away leaves and petals that fall continuously in the clearing, like snow in winter. He walks down the stone stairs to be on equal footing with Geralt and comes closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Husband..” He hums. “Your absence worries me so,” he chastises, one hand on Geralt’s chest, the other at his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt doesn’t reply, he only leans down and kisses him deeply. Jaskier smiles against his lips, kisses back ravenously, all the hunger of an immortal fey lord in those lips. Geralt can’t move away, but he doesn’t want to anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being married to a witcher is much more waiting than expected,” Jaskier says after a moment, when they have to break for air for Geralt. Kisses last much longer with witchers than with humans, but still, he needs to breathe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt takes the comment in stride. He knows he doesn’t mean it. Jaskier is aware of time differences as much as he’s aware of Geralt’s lifestyle. He respects both. That’s another of the many reasons Geralt loves him so. There is absolutely no fear that Jaskier will be gone when he steps into the Woods again. Neither time nor boredom will claim him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier kisses him again for a few seconds before he grabs Geralt’s hand and pulls him after him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come now. There’s a feast, and everyone’s already here,” Jaskier grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt stops talking when he sees the great table behind the wall of illusion magic. The whole family is here, Aiden and Lambert and Vesemir and Eskel and Renfri and Yennefer. That’s unexpected. Ciri sits down and Jaskier shoves Geralt to sit by her side, while he takes the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy Anniversary, Geralt,” Jaskier whispers into his ear, another song-like murmur that strikes at his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. How did he get this lucky? </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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